


JohnLock/PotterLock: Expecto Patronum

by KingOfHearts709



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Potterlock - Fandom, Sherlock - Fandom, johnlock - Fandom
Genre: AU, Forbidden Forest, Gryffindor, Hogwarts, Hufflepuff, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Potions Class, Potterlock, Slytherin, raveclaw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 01:42:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4328907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingOfHearts709/pseuds/KingOfHearts709
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A spell with just a little love will always work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	JohnLock/PotterLock: Expecto Patronum

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so first off, I know I messed with everyone's house a bit. It't not their usual houses, but I made do by associating them with each other. I did, however, look up patronus', so those are a little bit more accurate. xoxo

John Watson, a fifth year at Hogwarts, looked over his Defense Against the Dark Arts book. He was still working on a new spell his professor had just taught his class, but he couldn't grasp its concept. It was too difficult to work on alone, let alone work on at all. He was about to pull out his wand to practise again until his friend, Mike Stamford, nudged him.  
"It's time to go, John," he said. "Supper's in the Great Hall."  
"Right, sorry," John replied. "I'm still stuck on this." John closed his book and headed toward the Great Hall with Mike, sitting down at the already crowded Gryffindor table. After all the students had arrived, the food appeared as usual. John took a chicken wing and placed it on his plate as the chatter began to grow around him.  
"Which spell are you working on?" Mike asked as he grabbed two wings and dropped them on his plate with a clatter.  
"This one," John said as he opened his book again and passed it to Mike.  
"You need help with this one, mate, if you can't get it right now," Mike said. "It's downright impossible by yourself."  
"I know, I just can't find anyone to..." John started, but stopped when he looked up and found his gaze set upon on a boy from the Slytherin table. His hair was curly and dark brown, his high cheekbones regarding his entire face. Suddenly, the boy's eyes flicked up to meet John's before briefly turning away.  
"Who is that?" John asked.  
"Who's who?" Mike replied, taking a bite of his food.  
"The Slytherin, the one with the curls."  
"That's Sherlock Holmes," Harriet, John's sister, spoke up. John jumped.  
"When did you get here?" John breathed.  
"I've been here the whole time." She shifted in her seat. "He's a fifth year, like you. I don't think he has too many friends."  
"What is he, a pureblood or something?"  
"Half-blood, actually. And a know-it-all. He likes to solve a lot of puzzles."  
"Why not just use magic?"  
"He says it makes him rely on something other than his own intellect." John furrowed his brow.  
"How does a half-blood even get in Slytherin?" Mike piped up, mouth full of food.  
"I don't know," Harriet replied. "He's got a brother who just graduated. Mycroft, I think. He was in Slytherin, too."  
"Okay, hold on," John interrupted, stopping the whole conversation. "So he's a Slytherin half-blood know-it-all with no friends?"  
"That's the whole of it."  
"Do you know if he's any good at Defense Against the Dark Arts?"  
"You want him to help you?" Mike chuckled. "Yeah, he's good, but he doesn't work with others. He's, what do those muggles call it?"  
"Sociopathic," John stated.  
"Yeah."  
"If he can help me, then I'll try to see if he wants to."  
"Well, good luck, little brother," Harriet giggled, ruffling his blonde hair.  
***  
John did some asking around the next morning, and found that this Sherlock boy liked to spend time in the library. He headed towards it, book in hand as he searched.  
"Sorry, have you seen a Sherlock Holmes anywhere?" John asked a Hufflepuff, Greg Lestrade.  
"He's over there," he pointed over to a large bookcase in the corner. "Why?"  
"I just need to speak with him."  
"Careful. He's a bit, well, rude."  
"Thanks." John headed to where the bookcase was, and spotted the mess of curls, hunched over a very large book.  
"Excuse me, are you-" John started, but was cut off.  
"Sh," Sherlock said, and continued to read for another minute before looking up. "What do you want?"  
"Hi, I'm John Watson," he started. "Are you Sherlock Holmes?"  
"I am."  
"I was told you're good at Defense Against the Dark Arts and was wondering if you could help me with a spell."  
"Sherlock, I have your next stack," a female voice rang out. She was a Hufflepuff as well, John noticed as she set down the stack of large books.  
"Thank you, Molly," Sherlock muttered as he turned to survey the mountain of literature and history.  
"Oh, hello," Molly said when she saw John. "I'm Molly Hooper. I was just helping a bit."  
"That will be all, thank you," Sherlock said as he picked up a book.  
"Okay," Molly said and walked off.  
"Um..." John started, but didn't finish when Sherlock stood with the book.  
"While I appreciate you asking for my help, I'm afraid I can't. I have much to do in little time, not to mention that I don't help people," Sherlock said, very quickly and shortly. "Good morning." He gave a quick tight smile before disappearing out of the library. John stood there, a bit stunned before going to follow. It was too late, for the boy had left already.  
"Were you just talking to Sherlock?" a boy's voice asked. John turned around to see two Ravenclaws, Philip Anderson and Sally Donovan.  
"Yeah, I was just asking if he could help me," John said.  
"Don't," Sally said. "He doesn't do that sort of thing."  
"He's a freak, and everyone knows it," Philip added. John was about to say something until he suddenly realised that if he didn't go now, he would be late for Potions class.  
He rushed to class, almost dropping his books on his way. He made it almost one minute before class had started. He took a breath of relief and sat down, waiting for class to start. Suddenly, he noticed something. Sherlock was in this class. He never noticed before, but why would he? He had class with Slytherin and Gryffindor every time, yet he never once noticed. The class started off with the professor explaining the potion they would be making today, then started to pair people up, Gryffindor with Slytherin.  
"John, you'll be with Sherlock," the professor said suddenly. Sherlock sighed and mumbled something under his breath as he made his way to sit next to John. After everyone was situated, they began their experiment.  
"Take this and crush it," Sherlock ordered and pushed a piece of herb towards John. John simply obliged, but stopped when he saw Sherlock wasn't taking part.  
"Aren't you going to do something?" he asked.  
"I am," Sherlock replied and skimmed through a book. "The herb, crush it and put it in the cauldron." John sighed and did so. He had a good idea of what to do now, and continued making the potion.  
"Is this what you do?" John asked as he stirred the cauldron's mixture. "Make other people do things for you?"  
"Right now, I need to read this so I may understand a current hypothesis I have developed," Sherlock retorted as he turned the page. "I have absolutely no need to learn this concoction."  
"Some people, they told me that you don't have friends, that you're a know-it-all."  
"No, I don't, and yes, I am. I hardly care what others think."  
"They also told me that you're a sociopath."  
"High-functioning sociopath."  
"So it's all true?"  
"The facts are true. Their opinions are not."  
"I meant that you make other people do things while you do what you think is important." Sherlock stopped reading and John stopped mixing. They caught each other's eyes.  
"It is important," Sherlock stated.  
"To you," John replied.  
"As if anyone else would understand." Sherlock looked away.  
"You won't let anyone else." Sherlock suddenly pushed himself away from the cauldron. He stood, hands clenched into fists, then ran out of the classroom.  
John ended up finishing Potions class by himself.  
***  
"John," Mike said, nudging John in the bed. "John, wake up." John groaned and sat up.  
"What?" he mumbled.  
"This note just got crammed under your sheets." Mike held up a cream-coloured card in his hand.  
"How?" John asked as he took the note.  
"I don't know, but it looks like it's from that Sherlock boy." John's vision adjusted, but he still couldn't read it. He grabbed his wand and lit it up, holding it over the writing.  
"Watson," it read, "The Forbidden Forest. Come if convenient." John sighed.  
"Well, it's not bloody convenient and we're not allowed there," John said aloud. The writing twisted suddenly to form new writing.  
"If inconvenient, come all the same."  
"For God's sake." John flipped over the card. One last phrase.  
"Could be dangerous." Next to it were two initials, "SH."  
"Mike, get my cloak," John said as he dimmed the light on his wand. Mike looked confused.  
"You mean your invisibility cloak?" Mike asked, dumbfounded.  
"Yes, go, I need it." Mike shrugged.  
"If you say so." He went off to fetch it as John proceeded to wrap his red and gold scarf around his neck and slip on his shoes. Mike returned with the cloak and handed it to John.  
"You sure about this, mate?" he asked. John draped the cloak around him, causing him to be invisible.  
"No," he answered simply, then made his way out of the common room, down the stairs, outside, and kept walking until he saw the forest. He got a bit lost on the way, but nevertheless remembered the hut just next to it. He spotted a figure, assuming it was Sherlock, and walked towards it. The figure became clearer, and John was sure it was Sherlock in his green and black scarf. He stood, hands in pockets. John was close enough to touch him now.  
"Take that off," Sherlock said. John obliged immediately, pulling off the cloak and looking at the Slytherin.  
"Why are we at the Forbidden Forest?" John demanded in a hushed voice.  
"You said you wanted help with a spell, so this is me helping you," Sherlock said and walked straight into the forest without a care. John, however, took reasonable precautions as he followed before they reached a clearing.  
"Take out your wand," Sherlock said when they stopped. John did so, and shrugged.  
"Now what?" John inquired.  
"What's the spell you're struggling with?" John sighed. He didn't really want to admit it.  
"My Patronus," John said meekly. Sherlock nodded.  
"Point your wand forward," Sherlock said. John did. "Now, try to think of something that makes you cheerful. I don't know why, but it's what you're supposed to do." John closed his eyes. He tried to think of things that made him cheerful, things he liked. Being a wizard, having good friends, that one great brew his mother used to make him.  
Sherlock.  
"Expecto Patronum," John said. The end of his wand lit up slightly. "Expecto Patronum," he repeated, louder. His wand lit lighter. "Expecto Patronum!"  
His wand didn't light up again. John opened his eyes.  
"I don't understand," John said as he looked at his wand. "It should have worked, my Patronus should have worked."  
"I'm sorry, John," Sherlock said. "Sometimes, it doesn't work for everyone." John looked to him.  
"Can you do it?" John asked. Sherlock sighed and reached in his pocket for his wand, quickly whipping it out and pointing it forward. He filled his mind with thoughts and ideas.  
"Expecto Patronum," he said, and light shot out of the end of his wand. A creature, a zebra, galloped from the end of his wand and away. The light faded just as it had appeared. Sherlock furrowed his brow.  
"I've never been able to do that," he remarked as he lowered his wand. "That was the first time I..." He trailed off when he caught the Gryffindor's gaze. John readied himself again. He raised his wand to looked ahead of him.  
Sherlock.  
Only Sherlock.  
"Expecto Patronum," he said. His wand lit up like it had before. "Expecto Patronum." His wand lit up bright. "Expecto Patronum!" As if the words were conjuring his thoughts, light flew ahead, and an animal for him, a dog, stepped out and ran away. John lowered his wand as the light faded.  
"I did it..." he mumbled to himself. He smiled greatly and turned to Sherlock. "Sherlock, I did it! We did it!" Sherlock looked at him, then at his wand. He stepped towards John.  
"I suppose being in each other's company will do us both well, Watson," he said. "After all, our spells didn't work until we met."  
"Yeah, you are right," John said. "You are..." He stopped speaking when Sherlock approached. Inches from his face, from his lips.  
Sherlock leaned in and kissed him. Maybe it was the wrong thing to do, but at the moment, it felt so right. It felt like he had to do it, or he would never get the chance again.  
Truth is, he would get more chances than he could possibly count.  
***  
"Sherlock, can't you carry some books?" John asked as he lugged a stack of books out to the courtyard.  
"Busy," Sherlock replied, and held up the book behind him. He spotted a bench, one he sat at often. Always by himself. He figured it was time to add another person to his company. "Here." Sherlock pointed to the bench. John struggled the last few steps, but managed to make it to the bench and drop the books. He took a breather before sitting down, leaning on the pile. Sherlock sat down next to him, then shifted so he was leaning against John's side with his book, still reading.  
"What are you reading about now?" John asked as he leaned to look at the words.  
"Various descriptions on Patronus'" Sherlock said. "It says here that the dog is loyal, protective, and holds companionship. However, the zebra is stubborn, confident and capable."  
"The zebra sounds just like you," John joked.  
"As does the dog for you, Watson."  
"The zebra and the dog. Doesn't sound too bad when you think about it." Sherlock looked up from his book.  
"No, it doesn't." John looked at the school castle.  
"We should go or we'll be late for Potions class."  
"Yes, we should." John stood.  
"Promise you'll actually do something this time."  
"No." Sherlock stood.  
"Then you can carry all your books." John smiled and made his way for the castle. Sherlock rolled his eyes.  
"Now I see what he means about making others do it," he grumbled as he picked up his books.  
Yes. Definitely a lot more chances.


End file.
